Spring of 78'
The day started normal.
I was laying in my bed while the rising sun set on my skin.
God, it's only 8am...why am I up so early? It's only Sunday!
I thought to myself.
I groaned lightly, my hands contorted the skin on my face. I was not a morning person.
Definitely not, I always found comfort at night. Yawning, I sat up.
What am I going to wear? Or even do today?
I usually had ideas for meetups with friends.
But, today was not that day. A lazy day seemed a good idea in my head. I smiled to myself. A day of just lying around? I would enjoy it.
God, it's grocery day.
My mother was notorious for making each day of the week a different theme.
Sunday was "grocery day"
But Monday was the worst, "cleaning day"
My mother makes you deep clean every crack and corner as if the Queen was arriving.
More groans came out of my mouth, the normal teenage noise as always.
Jumping out of bed, I decided to be productive today and avoid the pain from my abusive father.
I stared at my wooden dresser, looking at the clothes surrounding it. I never bother to clean up most of clothes.
Today I was going with my usual, or favorite, outfit.
A bandana, tight shirt, and my denim bell bottoms.
Hoop earrings, too.
After I finally started moving, I put the outfit on me.
The mirror shined on me.
It was reflecting the light of the morning sun.
The mirror seemed as if it was grinning at me.
I felt good in this outfit as always.
My bandana looked even better than other times. When I first found the existence of bandanas, I wasn't the best wrapper. Since then I've seen improvement in my skills, which I've been very proud of.
"Y/n, It's 8:30! You know what day it is! Come out of your room or I'm telling your father!"
My mother knew I wasn't fond of my father.
She knew how horrible he was, abusive, but still supported him.
"Mom, I coming-okay?
"Please, just hurry, your father doesn't want to come for lunch and have no meal!"
My father worked an office job that gave him a long enough break to come back home, he forced my mom to make him lunch every day.
No groceries, no lunch, and then my mom comes to me crying and screaming with bruises.
Yes, my father was abusive. Most of my friends could relate sadly. It was a somewhat common trait for my generation.
No matter what, my mother found a way to blame me for all of her relationship problems.
I always replayed that one argument we had a year ago...
"God, can't you do one thing right?"
"Mom! Please just listen-"
"You know...I wish I never had you. All you are is a mistake and burden to our family."
It was a permanent moment in my head.
She didn't mean it, right? She's my mother.
She couldn't have. I'm overreacting probably.
It was all these small outbursts she would have that doubted my judgement of her.
I threw on my good ol' Chuck 70's.
They were a nice shade of brown.
"Y/n L/n! Ring! Ring! Ring! It's grocery day!"
God, I was lost in my mind again.
"Sorry, mama! I'm coming!"
I slammed my door open.
Flinching at the noise.
My litte brother was watching the television in our living room.
My brother, Phillip, was always out in the town. It was weird seeing him at home.
"Hey, Phil!"
My brother turned to my call.
"Yeah?"
"You hanging out with Finn today?"
I gave him a questioning look.
He stared off into the window of the room, off in thought.
"No, not today. He has to watch his sister today"
"Oh, alright. Find something good to do today!"
He smiled at me, he chuckled slightly.
"You too, Y/n!"
"Stop the conversation you two! I know you both have something to do today. Y/n, groceries. And Phillip, your room? It looks like a bomb set off in there. Smells like it, too"
My mom stared at Phillip with a angered face.
My mom, a perfectionist at heart, hated messes.
Children were messes. She couldn't accept that though.
My mom was wearing her expensive fur coat. Her long hair and large sunglasses went together well. She looked like a hippie. But definitely didn't have the ideals as one.
Welp, lost in thought as always.
My mom was now staring at me.
"Well-Y/n, off you go!"
I gained my conscious again.
"Yes, sorry again"
My mom had her hands open wide, keys and dollar bills laying out on them.
I snatched the group of metal and paper, running out the door.
As I ran towards my mom's 73' Chevrolet Impala, she yelled through the screen door.
"As always, be back before 12! Remember, don't spend that extra money on cigs and gum!"
I turned to her with a slight disappointed look on my face.
She knew I loved spending the extra money on my own necessities.
My brother ran to the door waving me goodbye.
I waved back, unlocked the car door, and hopped inside.
My mother eventually waved back.
I skirted away with exhaust coming into my nose.
I scrunched my nose from the sudden smell.
I swear, I'll never get used to that smell.
